What Could Have Been
by ghrocks07
Summary: Sam/Andy One-Shot.  Sam struggles with his emotions when Andy begins to leave at the end of "Hot & Bothered."


_Okay, guys, I just want to thank everyone and anyone who has read and reviewed my stories. I appreciate it more than you could ever know. _

_This story is very sad, and it takes place from Sam's perspective after the cliffhanger we were left with in "Hot & Bothered."_

_Hope you like it, and, as always, please review and let me know what you think._

_..._

_INTRODUCTION (RECAP): _

_Andy McNally is a new rookie on the force. Sam Swarek is her training officer. Andy had a rough day, and had to kill someone, for the first time in her life, causing her to be confused and distraught when she got home. She turned to Sam for comfort, not only emotionally but physically, and I picked up where it left off. There had been a power outage that day, and just as Andy and Sam had started becoming intimate, the power came back on, almost like a wave of reality implying what they were doing was wrong, and could jeopardize their careers. Sam didn't care, but Andy did._

_..._

**_Damn the power. _**

Sam exhaled heavily.

He shut his eyes, feeling Andy tense up, and realizing that this perfect moment might just be over as soon as it had begun.

He got up hesitantly and went to shut off all of his appliances that started making disruptive sounds.

His heart sunk, hoping with all of the strength within him, that Andy would stay.

He came back as quickly as possible, but walking in, felt completely broken. He saw her putting her shirt back on, an apologetic look spread over her beautiful face.

He knew she had a fear of intimacy… and that she had to learn to trust people. Yet Sam also knew, that, deep inside, he would never do anything to hurt Andy as long as he could help it, but he had to get _her _to realize that.

He stood in the doorway, with an emptiness in his chest that seemed to grow larger with every second. It felt like a part of him was missing.

This strong, composed, handsome man, who is usually so reserved and guarded, forgot all of the rules that he had once forced himself to abide by around the time that when he went undercover. He promised himself that he wouldn't drop his guard, or let anyone in, for fear of being hurt.

In so many ways, he and Andy were exactly alike.

But he had, and now the hurt began to overwhelm him. He felt as if he could drown in his own sorrow. The pain had settled within him, and he used every ounce of will power he possessed to stop the tears from surfacing.

Sam clenched his jaw while standing in the doorway, taking one last meaningful look into Andy's eyes before walking away. He wasn't strong enough to face her.

He knew that she was emotional from the shooting, that she was confused and just needed someone to turn to, to take her mind off of it. It wasn't for _him_.

_She doesn't feel the same towards me as I do towards her, _Sam thought, angry.

_All she wanted was to escape from reality, and I was her way out._

Sam interlaced his fingers together and used all of the hard, defined muscles in his upper body to squeeze his hands together while simultaneously bringing them to his forehead.

He sat down in his kitchen, pressed his eyelids shut, and ground his teeth together out of frustration.

He never knew that he could feel so much for a woman, letting her in so easily, and in doing so, giving her the complete accessibility to walk all over him.

He felt like he was a tool. A mere distraction from the pain she was feeling.

And, despite all of the emotions he was experiencing now, he couldn't blame her. He wanted her so much that he took advantage of the situation, when he knew, as her training officer, he should have stopped her the second she came onto him. But he couldn't have brought himself to do that.

_It was my fault as much as hers, if not more. _

Now, in his mind, he made himself out to be the bad guy.

It was then when he heard Andy get up. He could hear the speed and nervousness in her movement, as she anxiously grabbed her keys and pulled herself off of his bed.

As Sam listened intently, it felt like a knife was tearing through him with each step she took that brought her closer to walking out of the front door.

_Just get up and stop her, Sam. You know you want to. I think you know that, deep inside, she wants you to as well._

_**No. No, she doesn't. I don't mean anything to her, she's got Luke. I was just a scapegoat.**_

_When are you going to stand up and be a man? When are you going to realize that __**you**__ have to take charge? She's not going to come out and tell you how she feels, you know that, she's built up a wall, she's scared of intimacy, she's scared of commitment because of the possibility of getting hurt…_

_God, she's just like you._

And even though this made so much sense running through Sam's mind, and though he could picture the pleasant turn of events taking place in correspondence to his actions, as he saw Andy walk down the hallway to the doorway of the kitchen, stopping before leaving, he couldn't move.

He couldn't make himself stand up, walk over there, and pull her into him. It felt as if he were paralyzed, his muscles not responding to the orders given to them by his mind.

All he could do was stare at her with his wide, dark, _gorgeous _eyes, and wait motionlessly for her next move.

She looked so sad, so angry with herself, so confused.

It killed him as he watched her.

But he felt just as much pain as she, and this time, he couldn't be the hero. He couldn't be the man she needed him to be.

_This time,_ he couldn't stand up and be there for her, to help her, because he, himself, needed just as much help, and just as much counseling.

Now it felt like someone else had taken over Sam's body. It was being controlled by the hard, rugged, detached cop he had been when they first met. In other words, a total ass.

"Sam," Andy started, her voice weak.

"Don't, please. Just don't." Sam responded sharply.

"I… " Her voice broke. Tears began forming in her eyes.

Sam felt sick within. He loved her so much, and yet he was hurting her.

He shook his head back and forth and ran his right hand through his thick hair in an almost "I-can't-deal-with-this-right-now" manner. Sadness was spread all over his face, she could tell, even under the rough exterior.

Andy stepped forward, making her way towards him, but then decided to stop.

She knew she had made an irrevocable mistake. She had come here, used him, and left him when it suited her, not acknowledging his feelings for a second.

She stood awkwardly still.

"I..." She paused. "I'm so sorry, Sam…"

And with that, she slowly took a step back, surveying his every move before turning and walking out of the front door quietly.

...

What would come next, neither of them had any clue. All they did know was that the pain each of them felt within themselves when they were physically apart was unimaginable. There was a hole that needed mending in their relationship, and neither of them would stop feeling empty until it had been repaired. The simple explanation is because people have scars. In all sorts of unexpected places... like secret road maps of their personal histories, diagrams of their old wounds._ And yes,_ most of our wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar... but some of them don't. Some wounds we carry with us everywhere and though the cut's long gone, the pain still lingers.

And here was a perfect example. There was something that Sam and Andy had together, something that no one on this earth could even begin to describe, and, without it, they would simply be lost.

...

**_"At the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with one's lost self. For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.'" –John Greenleaf Whittier_**


End file.
